Category: Literature

The Quest to be Known

by klgonnerman, posted in Literature, Movie

The best characters have quirks, flaws, and many facets. So why do we spend so much time in real life hiding these very things?

Writing teachers will always push their students to come up with details that make their characters human. One of the standard tips is to give a character a habit – the quirkier the better. If at first go, the character bites her nails, is there something different she could do that’s even more interesting?

One of my favorite examples is Brad Pitt’s character in Ocean’s Eleven (the whole series, really). That man is always eating. Every scene. No matter what time of day. Almost always messy snacks. I love him all the more for it — in large part, because I feel like I know him a little better.

All of us yearn to be known. We yearn to be understood as whole people, complete with mismatched parts, strange quirks, and many layers. But then we try never to show our bad habits, our guilty pleasures, our odd hangups.

And we wonder why we don’t feel like people know the real us?

A friend told me recently about an experience that touched him deeply, where he got to combine two disparate parts of his life and connect with others that shared the connection. He delighted in the experience, and it also left him feeling a bit emotional. I suspect that he was feeling closer to known — fully and completely.

If you find yourself wishing to be known, if you recognize that you are feeling disconnected, here’s an idea. The next time you’re having a good conversation with someone, see if you can reveal just a little insight into yourself you wouldn’t normally share. See if you can be just a little more honest — with a coworker, a friend, your mailman.

They might just be happy for a window into the real you. And maybe, someday, they will really, truly know you, too.

 

 

Worthy

by klgonnerman, posted in Literature, Movie, Poetry

I’ve been part of an interesting online discussion among aspiring writers, who have been asking, “Is my story worthy of being told?”

It’s essentially an immaterial question for those of us who write for life. Much as I would like to publish and share my writing, that’s not its true function.

A natural answer might be, “Everyone’s story is worthy of being told.” I believe this to be true. Transformation happens when each of us discovers a true voice and the best means of personal expression (whether in an area we officially recognize as “Art” or in doodles or excel spreadsheets or whatever).

But what happens when some stories have been heard, and heard, and heard some more?

It’s our responsibility to make sure that the stories that haven’t been told get told.

It’s our responsibility to raise up and celebrate stories, and to shine a special spotlight on those that haven’t been told often, well or authentically.

Here are a few of my favorite discoveries of late:

  • At a recent Slice Magazine writers’ conference, I was introduced to four amazing poets, whose stories, work and experiences I can’t stop revisiting: Javier Zamora, a Salvadoran-born poet; Hafizah Geter, born in Nigeria; Ricardo Alberto Maldonado, born and raised in Puerto Rico; and Jenny Xie, who moved to the U.S. from China as a child. The panel was focused on how these impressive artists explore their past and heritage in their work, hence why I have highlighted their heritage in this short paragraph. Its not fair, because I should take the space to list each of their extensive accomplishments, because they are formidable poets grappling with important, complex issues. So, there’s your homework – read these poets. They are impressive.
  • Tchaiko Omawale, an independent filmmaker, is in the finishing stages of fundraising for her feature film, Solace, based on her personal story. It promises to be amazing. Check out the trailer.
  • Becoming Nicole: The Transformation of an American Family is a story we should all spend time with. From a very young age, Nicole (born Wyatt) knew she was a “boy-girl,” different from her twin brother. Thanks to support from her mother, eventually her father, and an extended fight for her rights, Nicole was able to realize her true identity.  This book should mark a journey toward empathy and understanding for those who are interested but uninformed about transgender rights, realities and public reaction.
  • Lest we leave the babies out, Roseanne Thong has written children’s books with a unique approach to the old standards. Two stand-outs are: Round is a Mooncake (a book of shapes) and Green is a Chile Pepper (focused on colors). Since I am probably buying more baby presents than anything else right now, I have taken an interest in writers of children’s books with a unique perspective.

Every story is important. Every story can lift us up, whether we relate directly to a particular issue or whether we relate just as one human to another. Every story should be told, and anyone with an urge to create should do so.

But when we see that some stories aren’t getting the press they deserve, that people are not accessing the unique perspectives that enrich our lives, we should speak up. This is a really short list.  Who would you like to lift up?

 

 

Slather It On

by klgonnerman, posted in Literature, Visual Arts

It gets worse – the news, our realities, the dangers to people we love and people we have never met. Those who were once marginalized are now targeted; those who were once excluded are now directly in the floodlights of hate, violence and policy-level discrimination.

The world feels like the harshest of brilliant lights, 2017 a long trek through the desert. And like any journey, it is no safer to turn around than to continue forward (aside from the fact that it’s impossible to go back, I get that too). So I’m working to slather on the artistic equivalent of SPF1000 sunscreen: a good, thick layer of art, relentlessly reapplied. Such that I may go back out into the trek, at least slightly protected.

The art that builds us up might be in a museum or gallery, but it might not. It might be created by a famous historical figure, but maybe it’s done by your neighbor with a special passion. The definitions should be broad, underscored by the key takeaway: does it work for you?

Here are three things that are making up my sunscreen today:

Pumpkin Art – Around the world this month, harvest festivals will inspire all kinds of cool displays. Some go for the creepy and ghoulish, the cute and clever, the simple and classic. The one I saw recently in photos? Jaw-dropping. I don’t know Kevin or his neighbor(s) but his thread on Twitter stopped me in my tracks. Man-oh-man, this must be incredible to see in person: Pumpkin Dragon!

Perfectly Delightful Story – I just finished Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, an amazing novel that is equal parts entertaining, delightful, tragic and uplifting. I almost didn’t make it in the beginning, because I was reading another book with an extremely quirky main character, and I didn’t know if I could handle two. So glad I did, though. Eleanor’s frankness, intense skills of observation, and utter lack of life experience make her instantly likeable and interesting. She’s that classic person we care and worry about, hoping she’ll make out okay. And she does far more than that.  As someone who writes novels, I was impressed by the ease with which the author, Gail Honeyman, molds a complex story into just the right mix of good, bad, ugly and redemptive. Could not put it down, and I miss Eleanor already.

Soothing Woodwork – My dad introduced me to the master work of Sam Maloof, famous for his wooden rocking chairs and furniture. Maloof created pieces that look like peacefulness embodied. Smooth, always madly respectful of the natural grains of the wood he chose, with gentle curves that look like they might melt if you’re not careful. They are far too expensive for most anyone to own, and sadly, Maloof passed away. But just knowing these exist, and appreciating their artisty, makes me happy.  The Smithsonian article has a few photos.

How do you bolster yourself in these harsh days? What artistry speaks to you? Whatever that is, slather it on — the more, the better.

 

Showing Up

by klgonnerman, posted in Literature

I broke up with my first really good friend in high school. She got a mystery illness. I didn’t know what to say, so I disappeared. When she came back to school after a semester away, she wasn’t interested in picking up where we left off.

I didn’t show up for her, and she noticed.

I wish I could say that the experience taught me the life lesson I needed, and ever since I have consistently been there for every friend when life throws them a curve. I generally do better now than before. My first instinct is to avoid the issue (and unfortunately sometimes the person!), because I don’t know what to do/say/feel/express.

According to Emily McDowell, I’m not the only one. And she’s really good at helping. Emily, an incredibly talented and funny artist, illustrator and writer with a terrific business, created Empathy Cards to help us all express something authentic when bad things happen.

Today I opened my brand spanking new copy of Emily’s book, co-written with Kelsey Crowe, Ph.D. There is No Good Card for This: What to Say and Do When Life is Scary, Awful, and Unfair to People You Love is my new textbook for how to show up when I don’t know how to do it myself.

We all need this book.  The authors eloquently remind us of this fact in the introduction, titled “Life Spoiler Alert: Bad Things Happen.”

This is a tool to give us a game plan to stay connected, however awkwardly. To make sure that we are there to support one another, authentically, even when there’s nothing we can do or say to make things better.

I like to think that, if I had read this book 20 years ago, perhaps my friend and I would have stayed friends.

Today, though, I know for sure that it’s given me great insight, made me laugh, and provided me with a blueprint for those most awkward of times, when we need each other the most.

No Forgetting

by klgonnerman, posted in Literature

As a white woman, the privileges of whiteness have influenced every aspect of my life.

Especially as a petite white woman, people generally assume that I am well-intentioned even in the absence of any indication. I could sit stone-faced with arms crossed, and people would still assume I was “nice.” People don’t cross the street to get away from me. If anything, they barely notice me. That’s part of my white privilege.

I have the privilege of paying attention to race sometimes and forgetting about it sometimes. The one exception, when I lived in China, changed my perspective forever. Even then, I was still a rare foreigner who was generally revered rather than vilified.

Race is just one of the many themes addressed beautifully in Everything I Never Told You, the 2014 novel by Celeste Ng. It’s the story of a biracial family in 1970s Ohio whose teenage daughter dies mysteriously. Painful and compelling, it portrays a tug of war between sadness and hope, the definition of tragic. At its core, it’s a story about family, why we speak up and why we stay silent, and how those choices can change everything.

A particular passage on race and forgetting stayed with me:

“Sometimes you almost forgot: that you didn’t look like everyone else. In homeroom or at the drugstore or at the supermarket, you listened to morning announcements or dropped off a roll of film or picked up a carton of eggs and felt like just another someone in the crowd. Sometimes you didn’t think about it at all. And then sometimes you noticed the girl across the aisle watching, the pharmacist watching, the checkout boy watching, and you saw yourself reflected in their stares: incongruous. Catching the eye like a hook. Every time you saw yourself from the outside, the way other people saw you, you remembered all over again.”

White people have the privilege of forgetting about race  at times. Affluent people have the privilege of forgetting about poverty at times. Heterosexual folks have the privilege of forgetting about LGBTQ discrimination at times.

Privilege and rights are different things, and should not be confused. Rights are inalienable and afforded to all. Regardless of our privileges, we must protect everyone’s rights.

Our neighbors can’t step out of these issues, and neither should we. It’s time to speak up and speak out. Forgetting is comfortable, but it’s not the time for comfortable. We must each acknowledge our privilege, and make the choice not to forget, not to dive into a more comfortable space, but rather to fight like hell for the rights of all. Forgetting is not an option.